


A King's Heart

by Queen_Richard (Palatinedreams)



Category: 12th Century CE RPF, Historical RPF, Original Work, Richard I. the Lionheart -Fandom
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Bittersweet, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Freedom, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Love, M/M, Making Love, Reunions, Romance, mentioning of slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:27:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26634331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Palatinedreams/pseuds/Queen_Richard
Summary: In February 1194, Richard the Lionheart was released from his imprisonment, and he is finally reunited with his faithful friend and minstrel Blondel, the one his kingly heart has been yearning for in all those long and lonely nights during his captivity.
Relationships: Blondel de Nesle/Richard I of England
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	1. The Taste of Freedom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arrested](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arrested/gifts).



> Dear Arrested,  
> This story I have written for you so long ago is so very close to my heart, and I am so grateful that I can give it back to you. <33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard takes his first breaths as a free man and king again, and his friend Blondel is by his side to cherish this special moment with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will post the remaining four chapters as soon as I had time to re-read and edit them, but I wanted to post this first one for you again tonight. :-)

_'Nothing had ever tasted as sweet as the first intake of air breathed in freedom,'_ Richard Plantagenet thought when he exited the large building and stepped out of the gloomy hallway and right into the cold but sunny winter day, sucking the surprisingly fresh air deep into his starved lungs.

The huge and impressive cathedral of Mainz towered over the smaller buildings that belonged to the residence of the arch bishop, and where the court council finally granting the English sovereign his freedom back had taken place earlier today; its stony and glassy beauty praising Him and His power meant to last for the eternity and remind His humble creatures of their own imperfection and mortality. Richard had to admit that the magnificent church impressed him, and he didn't mind remaining in the smooth-gray shadow of it for a while, even though a cold wind blew his heavy coat and made him shiver in the cold when he took another step away from the not less impressive palace-like residence of Arch Bishop Konrad I.

A few cheeky orange-golden rays of the winter sun had stolen their way through the shadows the two large church towers threw over the front yard where Richard Plantagenet was standing now, though, welcoming the king back into his newly regained freedom. They traveled curiously over his aristocratic, male features, tickling the king's nose as he drew in his first breath that was taken by the powerful monarch instead of the royal hostage he had been for far too long, tasting the scent of life and freedom on his tongue.

The city of Mainz was small enough to not emanate the stinking gusts of excrements and other unpleasant smells that came inevitably with such a large amount of people living so closely together, the smells of soot, foul leftovers or dirty clothes and unwashed bodies Richard knew from London or Paris. The King of England closed his eyes for a precious moment as he inhaled deeply the sweet winter air to taste the chilly but soft breeze caressing his pale face, the faintest hint of the forthcoming spring already detectable.

“Nothing is comparable to the taste of freedom, my King Richard, is it?”

The tall English ruler turned his head to observe the man who had spoken to him, his dark eyes fixing on the sharp, yet handsome features of the younger one. “You must know that, minstrel, don't you? Just tell me, was the first breath you took back then when I had released you from your master as sweet as this one seems to be?”

The blond bard smiled at his king. “The first one, and each and every breath I have taken ever since a young prince came to rescue me from a fate worse than death, my King Richard. I might once have been a free young boy, the son of a good and to your father faithful lord, but even then, I have never felt as free as I feel ever since you have become my master, your majesty.”

Richard frowned at that, a small crease of annoyance furrowing his brows. “I am not your master, and you know that, Blondel. I have never considered myself your master or you being my slave and servant, and I won't start doing that now. You are my faithful companion and my friend, free to go wherever you want to go, and no matter who it will be choosing to forget that, they will have to explain themselves to me, personally.”

The younger man dressed in the colorful clothes of his guild gifted his king with one of his rare beautiful smiles that showed the beautiful dimples in his cheeks and let his amber-green eyes sparkle. Richard had most likely been the one person walking on earth receiving this smile more often than any other human being ever had, or would ever do, but to the king, it always felt like the first time when he had been gifted with it so unexpectedly. Back then, when the other man had been nothing more than a scared and broken young boy, beaten and abused in the cruelest way possible.

Richard Plantagenet regarded his friend thoughtfully, taking in the familiar and deeply missed sight of his confident, who was much more to him than only the bard and friend he appeared as in public.

Blondel had indeed once been the son of a honorable baron, the Baron of Langstone, a loyal man of Richard's father, but the tall and proud baron had fallen from grace when Blondel had still been a small child, his lands and everything he'd possessed taken from him, even his own life; and his wife and children had been damned to live the misery lives of prisoners and slaves in the household of the neighbor lord, the Earl of Beaufort, who had accused Blondel's father of treason and conspiracy against the old king.

The earl had been sure about the support of the bishop of York and some other powerful lords and citizens, and no one had come to the baron's help and spoken up for him, but turned their backs on him as if they had never known him. Walter of Beaufort had taken advantage of King Henry II. being busied with his sons' rebellion against him, and the earl had woven his own plots to gain more power and wealth undisturbed and without any surveillance from the capital so far away.

Richard hadn't known of all of this until he had been forced to stay overnight in a tavern in the city of York because of a horrible thunderstorm several months after those fateful events, and where Blondel had been sold to the innkeeper to slave away there for almost twenty-four hours a day. The young prince had witnessed when the fat and cruel innkeeper had been beating and kicking the small boy almost to death only by accident, and having to keep up his disguise as the rich son of a French earl visiting some relatives, he hadn't had any chance to rescue Blondel other than buying him from his cruel owner. The innkeeper had drawn evil pleasure out of abusing a helpless child, but the money Richard had paid for him had meant even more to the bully, and he had sold the bleeding and unconscious boy to the young prince which he'd mistaken for a Frenchman he would never see again without blinking.

The patron had probably thought that the boy would die soon enough anyway, but the child had clung to the last shreds of life with all claws and teeth and all he had, and he had actually survived and recovered from his severe injuries surprisingly fast. Richard's gentle care had given him back the hope that one day, justice would be done to him and to the memory of his father and his family, and this hope had revived his spirits and his will to live at all costs.

Now, that Richard was free to return to England and claim the crown for himself again, he would see to this day of justice finally come and to rehabilitate the reputation of the dead Baron of Langstone, so his son would finally get back what was rightfully his: the home of his ancestors, Castle of Langstone, his father's former territories and most of all, his good name.

The name Blondel had refused to use as long as his father was still considered the traitor he had never been. Richard had gifted him with his new name, chosen because of the boy's red-golden hair and his amber eyes, and Blondel had thanked the young prince for his life and his new honorable name by becoming his most loyal and devoted friend.

Only few people knew that he was actually still Richard's slave, something the king tended to forget most of the times because for him, Blondel meant so much more. The minstrel's calm words had reminded him painfully of the simple truth that the younger man had never forgotten that Richard was his owner and therefore his master, even not after the long time they had been apart.

Blondel's beautiful smile assured him that his minstrel didn't have the same issues as Richard himself had when it came to the true nature of their arrangement, and the slim minstrel with the warm voice and a strength and confidence only few other men possessed only shrugged his shoulders.

“Freedom is a matter of heart, sire. A lot of free men and women are unfree and crushed by unfortunate circumstances, slaves or prisoners in their hearts, while others, unfree and enslaved men and women are free in their hearts and souls. I have never felt unfree and enslaved again ever since this fateful night when you came to my rescue, and it will stay that way as long as I am allowed to serve you and make your life easier, my King Richard.”

Richard sighed, but his face softened. He longed to reach out and touch his faithful friend, but he didn't give in to this urge, sensing the furtive and curious glances of his entourage upon Blondel and himself. His mother Eleanor had sent those she trusted the most to accompany him back to England, and even though Richard really trusted his mother more than anyone else except for Blondel, but he didn't know anything more about Robin of Locksley and his companions other than that they had actually brought the hundred and fifty thousand silver marks all the way from England to Germany to buy him his freedom back.

The fact that Locksley and his fellows had not stolen the huge amount of money to enrich themselves indeed proved their loyalty and trustworthiness, but Richard was cautious for good reasons, not wanting to provide the leader of the former outlaws and now of his entourage and guards with too much insight into his feelings and thoughts.

Blondel followed his gaze, pursing his lips. “You can trust them, sire. Robin of Locksley and his friends are trustworthy and as devoted to you as I am. I have been with them long enough to know that, and they will defend you with their lives, your majesty,” he said, using the official addressing to emphasize his words. Heinrich VI., the young German emperor and Richard's former captor, hadn't followed him outside but withdrawn with Konrad to discuss important matters, but some members of Heinrich's court were busied with giving orders to the servants and stable boys, using the opportunity to get some fresh air themselves and reminding Richard of the fact that his former hostage taker was still too close by for his peace of mind.

The King of England watched the other noblemen for a moment and decided that the air he was breathing as a free man would taste much sweeter when he would have left the shadows of the cathedral and the bishop's residence, bringing as much distance between him and the younger, powerful ruler as possible.

Richard wanted to travel through Germany for a while longer, but the winter sun was already setting, and they needed to find a place where they could stay for the night and which would be decent and appropriate enough to offer a powerful king shelter, a warm bed and a good meal.

“Alright, I will trust your judgment my friend and lay my safety in their hands, then. We need to find a place where we can stay for one or two days before leaving this hospitable city, and I must admit that I would feel more comfortable staying at another place than the residence of the arch bishop, as friendly as his excellency might be,” Richard answered to Blondel's reassurance about his guard, and his minstrel bowed before him, beckoning the Englishmen to come closer.

“We have already found a place where we can stay for as long as you wish, my King Richard. There is a large tavern in the city, it is called _'The golden Lion',_ and it is known to be the best tavern within a range of at least ten miles. I am convinced that you will find it comfortable and decent enough.”

Richard Plantagenet, called the Lionheart by his admirers as much as by his enemies, barked a short laugh. “ _ 'The golden Lion' _ ? That might be truly be an appropriate place for a king to pillow his tired head,” he remarked dryly, starting off towards the gate where their horses had been brought to by the arch bishop's dutifully stable boys.

“It is, you will see, Richard the Lionheart,” Blondel walking one step behind him said, the same dry amusement coloring his voice the king felt himself. The two so different men smiled at each other, and Richard Plantagenet allowed himself to eventually relax a little bit. Robin of Locksley and his guard followed him silently, their eyes attentive and their hands ready to grab their weapons and defend their king with their own lives at any minute. 

When Richard's gaze met Locksley's, the former outlaw returned his measuring with calmness and confidence, bending his head in a brief bow. This man was proud and would bend his knee only for someone he considered worthy his trust and loyalty, and Richard realized that his mother couldn't have sent anyone better than Robin of Locksley. With men like him by his side, he would reclaim his crown and his country from his brother, and with men like Blondel and Robin, justice would return to his subjects and his stricken homeland.

Richard the Lionheart lifted his chin up and drew in another deep breath. The sweet taste of freedom was still there, but another taste had joined it, the taste of responsibility and duty, and the King of England allowed himself a melancholy smile as he remembered what Blondel had said:

Freedom was a matter of heart, and deep in his heart, Richard was still a prisoner, because no king could ever consider himself a free man, free to live the life he wanted to live and free to love the one his heart longed for.

Richard Plantagenet, King of England, was still a prisoner, trapped in his duties and responsibilities towards his people, but as long as men like Blondel and Robin of Locksley stood by his side, easing his burden a little bit, he would always remember how freedom had tasted on his tongue, and this was all that truly mattered to him.


	2. The Comfort of Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard and Blondel spend the first evening in the tavern _'The Golden Lion'_ together with their friends, having dinner and reflecting about true friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Arrested,  
> here is the second chapter of your special story, I can't even believe how long ago it was that I wrote it for you. Time flies, and so much happened since then, and this story will always be a symbol of our friendship for me! <33

The tavern  _ 'The golden Lion' _ was surprisingly large, and it had two separated taprooms, a larger one at the front right behind the entrance to the impressive half-timber house which had been built for the townsfolk and the richer craftsmen, while the second taproom located behind the first one was smaller but much cozier and more comfortable, its furniture made of dark oak wood suitable for aristocrats and wealthy merchants who wanted to stay undisturbed during their meals. 

It was appropriate to offer rest and comfort even to kings and other rulers, and the innkeeper of  _ The Golden Lion'  _ and his staff had grudged no pains to impress the English sovereign and his entourage and make his stay in their tavern worth to remember it for a long time and with great pleasure.

Blondel watched his king relax gradually, and he finally allowed himself to relax as well, grateful for the tiniest hint of a real smile crossing Richard's noble features. He had been the one choosing this inn, as Blondel had always had some kind of sixth sense when it came to not only other people, but also when it came to special places and the vibes they sent out, and this tavern had emanated only good vibes. Anselm, the landlord of this tavern, ruled his family and his servants with strictness, but he was also kind and just, his only striving to serve his guests as best as he could and make them feel comfortable and welcomed.

Robin of Locksley had negotiated with Anselm, and the middle-aged man had promised them that the famous English king could stay in his tavern for as long as he wanted to stay without having to endure the presence of other guests that did not know how to behave when such an important person was around.

Richard Plantagenet and his entourage would be undisturbed and sleep in comfortable beds in private chambers instead of having to share one large room all together like it would have been the case in other, smaller taverns where only one or two bedchambers with several small cots or mats on the floor existed. Anselm's servants and maids had even seen to a tub being brought to Richard's rather splendid bedchamber that could be filled with hot water whenever the honorable guest longed to take a bath, and if that would even happen in the middle of the night as Anselm had assured Richard eagerly.

Blondel had expected Richard to take a bath before dinner, but his royal friend had only washed away the dust from their short ride with the help of the young servant Oscar who had come with them, because every king needed a good servant, especially when he was just released from his imprisonment and wanted to travel through the former hostile country of his imperial captor for a while longer.

Oscar had belonged to Robin's men during his time in the forests, and where Blondel had met him when he had joined Robin's 'army' to live with them, forced to flee from John Lackland's court. The favorite minstrel and confident of John's older brother hadn't been welcome in London any longer, being in permanent danger of losing his relative freedom and even his life if he had stayed in London when the murderer of his father had come to the capital to support the prince openly.

Oscar had hardly been more than a young boy, sixteen years old and in desperate search of a new home after losing his entire family except for one brother due to a horrible fire that had erased the small farm of his parents. Oscar hadn't wanted to be a burden for his freshly married brother and left his house to wander through the East Midlands and the county of Nottinghamshire until Robin had saved him from being caught stealing some food from a rich merchant in the streets of Nottingham. After that, Oscar had rewarded him for his deed by becoming one of his devoted and most faithful companions, a valuable and respected member of the former outlaws. The boy was eighteen now, gifted with a smart mind and sharp eyes and ears, and he had refused to stay behind when Robin and Blondel had decided to bring the ransom money to Mainz themselves together with some of the knights that were still loyal to Richard accompanying them, and with the help of several of Robin's own tough fighters to guard the huge sum of money as best as possible given the length of their dangerous journey through unknown and hostile territories.

The blond bard and the young boy with the messy brown hair had become friends over the past two years, and it had been only natural to let Oscar become Richard's personal servant. He might be young and inexperienced when it came to such services, but Oscar learned fast and his absolute trustworthiness and loyalty made up more than enough for his lack of knowledge. The English monarch had regarded his unexpected new servant with his usual impassive face but then nodded in short agreement and accepted Oscar's help without objecting.

Robin of Locksley and Oscar were two of the few people who knew that Blondel was actually Richard's slave, but they didn't treat him any different from the other men of their group. On the contrary, both watched with eagle eyes about Blondel's secret actually staying a secret, and the young minstrel was grateful for their care and friendship.

Richard's questioning gaze made him snap out of his memories, and Blondel turned his head to smile at his king. Robin of Locksley sat at Richard's right side, while Sir Roger de Lacy, the Baron of Pontefract, sat at his left side at the small end of the table. Blondel himself was seated in the middle of the long side next to Will Scarlett as it was appropriate and suitable to keep up appearances in the presence of Anselm's staff serving them. Both, Blondel and Richard himself, would have preferred to sit next to each other, but keeping up appearances was more important than ever, and Blondel knew that they would have time to talk privately later on after dinner.

When the king was sure that he had his bard's full attention, Richard returned his smile. “It has been so long since I last could enjoy your wonderful voice, my dear friend. Would you mind singing for me for a while, Blondel?”

Blondel bowed his head before his king, more than happy to make Richard's first evening in freedom special and let the older man forget his worries for one or two hours. “It will be my greatest pleasure and my honor to sing for you, sire,” he agreed, his smile deepening and reassuring Richard that his king's comfort and pleasure was the only thing that was truly mattering to him. “Is there any special song you would like to hear, my king?”

Richard Plantagenet nodded his head. “Yes, there is, my friend. I would love to listen to the serenade we have once written together. The memory of you singing it for me after we had finished it helped me through the long, dark nights of my captivity. The precious memory of my most faithful friend singing for me helped me not to give up hope that I would be a free man one day, free to leave my prison and go back to my own homeland, where I would finally see you again, my loyal companion.”

Blondel bowed his head again, deeply touched by Richard's honest words. “Then I will sing our serenade for you, sire,” he said, rising to his feet in one single, fluent move. He took the harp from where he had leaned it against the wall behind his chair and circled the table that formed a large 'U' with the opening to the adorned, wooden door.

The blond minstrel stopped before the small side where his king sat, bending his head for him once more. “Am I allowed to sit at your feet like I did when I sang our song for you the first time, my King Richard?” he asked, lowering himself down to the ground as elegantly as he had stood up beforehand to take his seat on the thick, dark-green carpet before Richard's feet in the middle of the 'U' now when Richard gave him permission to do so with a short nod and a smile.

Blondel, the faithful minstrel, took his harp and started to sing for his king, his warm voice filling the air of the taproom with its beauty until all the brave and sometimes pretty rough and loud warriors sitting at the table went silent and listened to him with rapt devotion.

*~*~*

Richard had missed his friend singing for him over the past years, dearly, but he hadn't known how much he had actually missed Blondel, his minstrel's deep and loyal friendship – his mere presence – until the first tunes of the serenade that meant so much to both of them wafted through the room, bringing tears of emotion and gratitude to his eyes. His newly won freedom tasted so much sweeter because he could share it with his faithful friend, the one who meant so much more to him than most other people had ever done.

Richard Plantagenet had grown up among a rather big family, between brothers and sisters and other relatives belonging to his father's court, and the young prince had hardly ever had time for himself or been alone. Yet, he had felt lonely and misunderstood in almost every wakeful hour of his life – until he had rescued a young boy from his cruel master, a boy who couldn't have been any more different from him, but who understood him and his feelings and hidden dreams so much better than any of his siblings or so-called friends and companions would ever do.

With Blondel, he could talk or be silent without fearing that his younger friend would betray him and reveal his secrets to anyone, and Blondel's rare, beautiful smiles and his wonderful voice offered him comfort and consolation whenever he needed them. This first so precious evening back in freedom was no exception from this rule, and Richard wasn't ashamed of the tears Blondel's singing let well up in his eyes. They were tears of joy and gratitude, of emotion and the visible sign that Blondel's unquestioning faith and loyalty, his deep friendship and devotion, could still comfort and console his beloved king like it had done so many times before the English monarch had left his friend to follow the call of the Holy Church and become a crusader.

Blondel himself had never been a soldier with sword and arrow, his weapons were his words and his sharp mind, sometimes much more dangerous than any steely weapon could ever be, but the mere thought of his only true friend dying in the desert of a foreign country far away had been too much for Richard to bear. And so, he had asked the younger one to stay in their beloved homeland where he had thought his minstrel to be much safer than in the Holy Land. Blondel hadn't told him much about the last three years so far, but Richard could tell by the little he had told him that Blondel hadn't been as safe and sound in England as Richard had hoped he would be. This was another drop of bitterness beside the worries about his subjects and his brother's next moves, but Richard was determined to not let them ruin his first evening and night in freedom.

Tonight, he would enjoy the delicious dinner Anselm and his wife had put on the table, and which he could share with the loyal men who had taken care of his ransom, willing to bring it to him at all cost and defend it with their own lives. Tonight, he would enjoy the company of old and new friends, and he would draw comfort and strength out of it. He would need both during the next days, weeks and months, and Richard leaned back in his seat with a contented sigh as he focused his attention on the handsome young man sitting on the thick carpet before his table with crossed legs, playing the harp and singing their serenade for him.

Blondel's chin-long golden hair was shining like a halo around his head in the warm light of the torches attached to the walls, and his pale skin shimmering rosy in the flickering light of the candles on the table. The amber-green eyes of his faithful friend were dark with his emotions, and a soft smile played around his lips as they were moving with the words he sung for his king. Words speaking of love and trust, faith and sacrifices; words they had once written together, when Richard had still been a prince without the weight of responsibility for an entire nation pressing down on him.

“I have heard him singing a lot of times and many different songs, but never this one.” Richard turned his head to look at Robin of Locksley, slightly annoyed that the young nobleman had disturbed him in his rapturous listening. Robin's eyes seemed to look right into his soul, and the king was afraid for the split of a second what the other warrior might find there. Robin of Locksley had certainly seen far too much in his rather young life, much more than he should have, things no one should ever be forced to see, just like Richard himself.

There was a strange connection between him and the young baron he hadn't known before this day, a connection between two strong and brave fighters who were willing to give everything for the things they believed in, like freedom, loyalty and justice. Richard felt his anger fade away as he returned the measuring glance, gifting his new head-guard with a short but friendly smile.

“This song is very special to Blondel and me. We have composed and written it together a long time ago, and it was always our song, something we didn't want to share with others,” the king explained, and Robin of Locksley slowly nodded his head. 

“I see. We are honored and blessed that you were willing to share it with me and my men then, considering us trustworthy and honorable enough for letting your friend sing this beautiful song for us as well, sire,” he gave back, and his serious voice told Richard that the young lord acknowledged and valued this seemingly small but indeed very important sign of Richard's willingness to trust him and his fellows highly.

“You have brought the money, Robin of Locksley. You have fought for the rights of my subjects when I couldn't do it myself, and you risked your life by shipping the ransom across the ocean and traveling with it through a foreign country to save a king who had left you under my brother's heel. Only few men would have done that for me, and surely none of my siblings or those calling themselves my friends without really knowing what friendship actually means. If anyone is honored and blessed to have such companions like you and your loyal men, than it is me, Robin of Locksley.”

The baron with the bottomless and for his age far too wise eyes regarded him thoughtfully for a few more seconds before turning his head back to the minstrel again. Blondel had ended his song and started to sing another, more cheerful one, his eyes fixed on his king's face and his smile lightening up the room much better than the torches and the candles did.

“Friendship is a very rare and precious thing, your majesty,” the former outlaw mused, “it is not formed by blood like kinship is, but by loyalty, trust and love. The bond between true friends can be so much stronger than the bond formed by blood, unbreakable and last even after death. Your friends will still stay by your side when all the others are gone, turning their backs on you, and true friends will care for you and fight for you when no one else wants to do that any longer. True friends are the most precious possession in this world, and those who have true friends are the truly blessed and rich ones, not the ones who call a lot of money or power their own.”

Richard's gaze wandered back to his faithful friend Blondel like Robin's eyes had done, and the hot wave of gratitude and happiness surging through him by the sight of his dearly missed mate let new tears fill his eyes. Richard smiled, a because of its wistfulness and melancholy even more beautiful smile, and his voice was hoarse as he answered to Robin's words, words that were so true, even more for a king like him who had been imprisoned and bereft of true friends for so long.

But, Blondel had found his way back to him, proven his friendship and faith once more, and he had brought new loyal and trustworthy friends with him, friends who would fight at Richard's side and never let him down like his brother had done, and the king knew for sure that with friends like Blondel and Robin of Locksley, he could achieve everything he wanted to do.

“You're right, Robin of Locksley. Friends are indeed the most precious possession in this world, and I am a very lucky man to have friends like my dear Blondel and you by my side. With you, I will return to England and bring peace and justice to my subjects. Your friendship will help me to win back what's mine, and together, we will defeat John and make sure that he can't do any more harm to our people.”

Richard raised his goblet and Robin and his men did the same, honoring friendship and faithfulness, while his beloved friend Blondel kept singing his songs, his voice filling the room with its warmth and beauty and the heart of Richard the Lionheart, King of England, with new hope and strength and faith.


	3. The Pain of Separation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard and Blondel are finally reunited, and finally alone with each other after the long separation that lasted four years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-reading this story brought back so many memories, it's probably the same for Richard and Blondel in here... <33

His new servant Oscar carefully folded the splendid tunic the king had worn during the court council which had finally granted him his freedom again, and Richard gratefully rolled his shoulders as he watched the boy seeing to his new duties with uttermost sincerity and carefulness. He felt strangely liberated now that his back and shoulders were freed from the heavy weight of his royal clothes, from his thick coat framed with cozy fur as well as from the long velvety tunic he'd worn over the stiff linen of his white shirt with the crinkled sleeves.

His undershirt was made of linen too, but it was soft from months of wearing and washing it so often, and Richard closed his eyes for a short moment when the pain the permanent tension in his muscles had caused finally began to fade.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, your majesty?” The king focused his tired gaze back on the young man who had been forced to choose the life of an outlaw in a far too young age and for reasons that had been beyond his control.

“Sire will do fine when we're alone, Oscar,” Richard told the former outlaw friendlily, crossing the surprisingly large bedroom which _'The golden Lion'_ offered for noble guests to sit down on the chair before the dressing table at the wall opposite the entrance. Even a small antechamber and a privy accessible from the main room belonged to it, and Anselm's servants had brought a tub to the antechamber and filled it with hot water during dinner.

It would normally be the chamber where Oscar would sleep, but Richard had asked him to share the bigger dormitory located on the upper floor together with the five other servants belonging to his entourage, and Oscar had bowed his head in a respectful nod without arguing, asking any nosy questions or looking at him with anything other than only admiration, devotion and understanding showing in his eyes. The lad must know why Richard wanted him to stay away from his rooms in this special night, but there was no disgust or contempt visible on his face, only joy and respect.

“Of course, your majesty, as you wish,” the boy had only said, the brief smile that was lightening up his handsome and still boyish features proving to Richard that Oscar was a faithful and true friend to Blondel and happy to see him reunited with his adored king eventually. 

Blondel had stayed with Robin of Locksley and the knights who would accompany their king on his journey across the Holy Roman Empire and make sure that he would safely return to England, but Richard knew that his friend would come to him when Oscar gave him the sign that his king was ready and longing for his company. Their separation had lasted for far too long, and the pain it had brought with it still made Richard's heart clench.

The tired but still impressive English ruler looked at his rather unexpected but trustworthy servant in the mirror, thanking him for his good services with a short smile that reached his eyes and smoothed out the lines around his mouth. “I can help myself now, Oscar. You look tired and I want you to go to bed after sending my minstrel to me. I've been missing his company and his voice for far too long.”

Oscar bowed again, returning the smile as he made his way to the door. The lad was still very young and inexperienced when it came to serving a king, of an adventurous and perhaps even rebellious nature he only could hide and suppress well enough when he really had to do so – considering that he had chosen the life as an outlaw in the thick forests over the relative safety of a life with his brother's family. Richard couldn't blame him for his wish to be independent and not be a burden for his brother, and Oscar's motives had certainly been noble - even though not very clever because his decision had endangered not only his own life and reputation, but would also have led to serious consequences for his relatives if he'd been caught. But Richard had always preferred those who had their own mind and beliefs over people who couldn't stand up for themselves, and he'd always mistrusted the minions who'd pretended that seeing their prince and later king happy was all they craved for - as he wasn't stupid and knew how politics worked and that only few people truly cared about his wishes and his well-being.

But Richard couldn't have cared less about Oscar's age and his ignorance when it came to his duties, the boy was intelligent and obviously a quick learner, and Richard didn't mind at all that Oscar was probably folding his tunic the wrong way or offering him wine that was too cold or warm until he'd learned how to do these things right. The lad with the unruly brown curls would learn how his king liked himself and his belongings to be handled sooner rather than later, and the passion and devotion he showed made up more than enough for his current lack of knowledge. These were minor issues that could be solved easily, while loyalty, care and trustworthiness were virtues only few people Richard had met so far actually possessed to the same extent as Oscar actually did.

Virtues that couldn't be valued high enough in these uncertain times, and which Oscar showed not only towards Richard himself, but also towards the one who meant more to Richard than anybody else had ever meant to him: his dear friend and confident Blondel.

“I wish you a good night, sire,” Oscar said when he had reached the door, pulling at the handle to open it. 

“Thank you, Oscar.” the king watched his servant close the door behind him almost inaudibly, his ability to move without making any sound coming from long time practice as Robin of Locksley's companion.

When he was finally alone for the first time on this long and tiring day, Richard leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, allowing his shoulders to slump with exhaustion while he waited for Blondel to come to him with longing pooling deep in his stomach and a small smile of anticipation playing around his lips.

*~*~*

Blondel had waited for this moment for what had felt to him like a lifetime, even though it had 'only' been four years. But four years could be longer than an entire life when you were apart from the one you loved more than your own life, even more when this special someone was in another, hostile country, in danger of losing his life every single minute of the day.

Thinking back, Blondel was still amazed that he hadn't lost his sanity over his worries, worries that had calmed a little bit when he had heard about Richard's return, just to rise to new and much higher levels when the rumors about the Lionheart's captivity had spread out, setting England literally on fire.

Robin and Oscar's friendship and silent understanding luckily had kept him from losing his mind though, and Blondel recalled the moment he had finally seen his king again, after the unbearable long wait of four years. It had been three days ago, and their first meeting hadn't been a private moment like Blondel would have wished for, but a rather public one in the great hall in the arch bishop's residence where the court council had taken place, right before the emperor's appraising eyes.

Blondel and Richard had seen each other several times over the past three days, but it had always been in public, and Blondel hadn't really had time to think about their first moment together in private, his time filled with the necessary preparations for the king's leave after his final release from his imprisonment.

The blond minstrel came to a halt before the dark wooden door with the carved ornaments upon it, the last obstacle he had to overcome to eventually stand face to face with his king without prying eyes watching them. The door was a rather simple obstacle, he only needed to pull at the messing handle to open it, but the door knob seemed to be too heavy to move it all of a sudden, and his hand refused his brain's order as if it didn't belong to him any longer.

Blondel closed his eyes and drew in a shaky breath that sounded almost like a sob as he tried to work up the courage and open the door that looked like a big mouth threatening to swallow and pulp him if he actually dared to step into the lion's den. The majestic golden lion was lurking behind that gate, Blondel knew that, waiting for him to come to him so he could judge his devoted companion and his actions during their separation – the faithful companion who was actually merely the royal lion's slave.

The young man with the red-golden hair and the almost magical voice had never felt like Richard's slave before, and neither the young prince back then, nor the king Richard now was had ever treated him like one. On the contrary - for Richard he'd always been only his friend and the man he trusted with his best kept secrets, and the only proof of Blondel's true status as his thrall was the small, beautiful silver ring the young man wore on the ring-finger of his right hand.

For Blondel, this ring had never been a sign of his enslavement, but only a sign of their special and strong bond, and he had touched his ring countless times over the last four years, whenever his yearning for Richard had become unbearable and he'd needed some comfort.

The silver had become thinner and a little bit darker where Blondel had touched and stroked it for reassurance, and the young minstrel had never taken his ring off, fearing that him doing that would cut their deep and strong bond and cause his king's death with that. As long as this ring was on his finger, it would keep Richard alive and safe, Blondel had told himself again and again until he had believed his desperate hopes to be the truth. The from his body heat warmed up metal had consoled him in the long and lonely dark nights when he had lain awake and craved to feel Richard's arms around him again that much that it had been a physical pain in his chest right where his heart was, and it had given him the strength to go on and never lose his faith when he had wanted to break down.

But in this minute as he stood there in the gloomy corridor before his lionheart's room like frozen in place, he felt the small silver ring on his finger pulling at him as if it was a heavy mill-stone around his neck pulling him under the surface of the cold sea he was sentenced to drown in.

What if Richard's feelings for him had changed over the past four years? What if his king was angry with him or loathed him for having fled from his brother's court to become an outlaw instead? What if his beloved lionheart had found someone else during their long separation? A separation that had caused so much pain and hurt? Blondel knew that he wouldn't find the answers to these questions if he kept standing before the closed door, and he straightened his shoulders in the weak attempt to push his sudden doubts and fears back into the farthest corner of his troubled mind.

The young minstrel who had once been the son of a noble and honorable aristocrat, but was now the slave of a king, completely at his mercy, opened his eyes again and took another deep breath as he lifted his right hand with sheer willpower, his trembling fingers enclosing the handle and slowly pushing it down.

Blondel's heart clenched as he hesitantly stepped over the threshold to enter the room where the golden lion was waiting for him, and when he raised his gaze to meet his king's eyes in the mirror hanging on the wall opposite the door, he felt his doubts and fears melt away within an instant.

The lion's faithful minstrel closed the door to rush to his king and drop down on his knees before Richard's chair, his head lowered down in a deep bow as he took Richard's hand to kiss his fingers with rapt devotion, his tears moistening the warm skin under his lips. Richard's left hand came up to tenderly stroke his hair, and the young minstrel dabbed more kisses on his strong and yet sensitive hand, clinging to it as if it was his only lifeline.

“My king. My king Richard,” Blondel croaked out, his voice hoarse with gratitude and emotion. “You have finally come back to me!”

*~*~*

Richard didn't know how long he sat there in complete silence, his breath the only sound audible in the rather dark room that was enlightened by two torches and three candles only. It would take some time until Blondel would come to him, and the English monarch was actually thankful for having a few minutes to himself, even though his heart cried to be reunited with his mate again.

Four long years had he waited for this moment, four horribly long and lonely years. Richard knew that he was the only one responsible for their separation, and he still remembered vividly Blondel's begging to let him go with him. But Richard had denied him his wish, had refused to put the only being he truly cared about in such lethal danger as which would await them in the Holy Country.

Blondel had still been so young back then, hardly grown up, the only pure and innocent, faithful being among all those creatures that licked his boots only for their own benefits and desires. Blondel had been like a fragrant flower blooming on the dunghill all the impudent and arrogant courtiers had been, like the one single golden sun-ray breaking through heavy and dark clouds or like the fresh and gentle warm breeze caressing his face when the thunderstorm of politics threatened to blow him away.

Blondel had been the solid tower of strength he could cling to in the cold and stormy sea, his distraction during the long and exhausting days, and his comfort during the short nights when he had tossed and turned in his bed, waiting for sleep to come to him that never came.

The young man with the red-golden hair and the amber-golden eyes had been his sun and his moon, and Richard could never have allowed this beautiful and innocent soul to be harmed and destroyed in the hot and bloody nastiness each and every war actually was, and so he'd told his young friend that he had to stay in England.

Blondel had finally resigned himself to his fate, seeing him off with a smile on his lips, but maybe, he had changed his mind over the past four years, his feelings for his king faded because of their long separation?

What if Blondel didn't love him any longer the way he had loved him before Richard had left him to become a crusader? What if his once so faithful friend had lost his faith in him after all this time? What if Blondel loathed and condemned him for all the suffering Richard had brought to his people and subjects when he'd left them under John's heel to follow the call of the Holy Church?

These were questions Richard had asked himself again and again during the last three days, and he knew that he wouldn't find the answers to them until he could finally look in Blondel's beautiful eyes again, but he simply couldn't stop them to repeat themselves in his head over and over again, and he became more and more anxious with every minute that passed.

When he heard a quiet sound coming from the other side of the room, the king opened his eyes again, searching for Blondel's gaze in the mirror. When he had found his beautiful eyes, Richard knew within an instant and without a doubt that he had worried over nothing, the love and happiness shining in the amber-golden depths of his friend and mate erasing his fear and replacing it with gratitude, hope and joy.

Blondel closed the door and almost flew to him to sink onto his knees before the chair where Richard sat, taking his hand and pressing devoted kisses onto his fingers. His minstrel's warm and precious tears fell upon his skin, and Richard reached out with his other hand to gently stroke the soft golden strands of Blondel's chin-long hair.

His beloved friend and mate kissed his fingers, and his voice was hoarse and rough with emotion and wonder when he finally opened his mouth and said: “My king. My King Richard. You have finally come back to me!”


	4. The Sweetness of Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blondel and Richard are finally alone with each other and enjoying their reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Arrested,
> 
> here is chapter 4 of your story, I hope that you still love it as much as you did back then! <33

They stayed like this for a while, the king and his minstrel, Blondel kneeling at Richard's feet with his lips pressed onto the back of his calloused hand, savoring the first minutes of their reunion in solemn silence.

Words couldn't describe what both of them felt in these first precious moments, and neither Richard nor Blondel wanted to start their final reunion after the long years of separation with meaningless chatter.

Blondel's tears fell onto the fragrant skin like precious, glittering pearls, and when Richard's other hand came up to wipe them from his cheek with a tender thumb, the young minstrel raised his head to smile at his beloved king, his lips still pressed against Richard's right hand.

Their eyes met, and Blondel could see that emotion had made Richard's beautiful eyes become wet as well, emotion and the deep feelings the older man didn't try to hide any longer, now that they were finally alone with each other. His left hand rested on Blondel's warm cheek, cupping it as if it was fragile and could break under his touch, and Blondel nestled his face into the soft embrace of his beloved king's fingers.

“You have come to me, my minstrel, you have been the one finding your way back to me when I needed you so much but couldn't come to you myself,” Richard finally whispered hoarsely, and Blondel's smile faded to an expression of utter devotion, sincerity and faith. 

“No one could have kept me from coming to you, my King Richard. No man, no army and no other living being, no human power or force could ever keep me away from you. Only He in Heaven above can keep me away from you and separate us forever. I will cross the deepest ocean and valley for you, and I shall climb the highest mountains to come to you whenever you'll need me. I will go through hell and back to save you and stand by your side, no matter how often that might be necessary. There is nothing in this world I will ever fear more than the thought of you leaving me behind again, my King Richard.” Blondel's voice sounded so firm, so honest, and Richard bent down to touch his forehead with his own, his thumb stroking the smooth skin of his minstrel's so beloved face.

The king closed his eyes, relaxing with gratitude as he inhaled deeply Blondel's wonderful scent. “This will never happen again, my dear Blondel. I will never leave you behind again, I promise you. I only did that because I wanted you to be safe and sound, the thought of you waiting for me in our homeland, protected, secure and cherished, was what gave me the strength to carry on no matter how hard it seemed to be, but now I know that I was mistaken, and that you weren't as safe under my brother's wing as I thought you to be. I won't let that happen again, never. From this day on, I will keep you by my side and nothing will ever separate us again.”

“Then I will be happy and safe for the rest of my life, my King Richard,” Blondel said, pressing into his touch and cupping Richard's face with his free hand as well. Their breathing slowed down until it was totally in sync, and when Richard's shoulders slumped with his exhaustion, his minstrel rose to his feet, pulling his tired king with him until they both stood.

“Let me serve you and help you to bathe, sire, it should still be warm enough for you to enjoy it,” the younger man murmured, and Richard opened his eyes to look at him. The love and tenderness he could see in the beautiful amber-golden depths took his breath away, and the English ruler leaned in to finally do what he had longed to do more than anything for the past days, ever since he'd laid his eyes upon his beloved friend for the first time after their long separation: kiss him like only lovers kissed each other.

A soft sigh fled his lips and Richard closed his eyes again and kissed Blondel.

*~*~*

Richard's lips felt perfect upon his own, as warm and soft as Blondel remembered them, and the young minstrel wrapped his arms around the man who had become his destiny so long ago, returning the kiss with all he had.

His king was clearly tired and needed to rest, but their kiss seemed to revive his spirits, and Blondel surrendered to him happily, opening his mouth and letting Richard's eager tongue slip inside to explore the sweet cavern that lay behind his lips, to let his king explore and claim anew what had never belonged to anybody else than his king anyway.

The blond bard didn't try to take control of their kiss and just responded to it, his hands gently carding through the silken brown strands of Richard's chin-long hair. The taller man pulled him closer, his arms protecting him as much as they conquered him, offering shelter and demanding their prey's sweet defeat at the same time.

Blondel had nothing against admitting his defeat, not in this case and never when it came to his beloved king. He simply melted against Richard's broad and strong frame, granting him what he wanted and baring his vulnerable throat to him when his king let go of his thoroughly kissed mouth to let his warm lips travel down over his jaw and nuzzle his neck. Shivers ran over the blond's back as hot lips sucked gently at his tender flesh right where his pulse was racing and a clever tongue licked over fragrant skin.

“A warm bath sounds nice, my beautiful Blondel,” his king whispered, his voice dropping to the low growl of the purring lion Richard had always been for the young bard, even before he had earned his honorable nickname that praised Richard's braveness and strength in all known countries of the world. 

“Then let me help you, my King Richard,” Blondel moaned, the forceful reaction of his starved body to the skilled caresses stealing his breath from his lungs. 

“I'm not a king at the moment, only a man,” Richard snarled, but without real emphasis. This had always been their game, and Blondel chuckled, cupping the older man's head with both hands to pull his mouth away from his damp neck and demand another searing kiss. 

“You will always be my King Richard for me, you know that. Some things will never change,” he mouthed against Richard's lips as he dared to take control of their second kiss and show the man he loved more than his own life how much he longed for him.

“We won't make it to the bath if you keep kissing me like that, my cheeky minstrel,” Richard finally gasped out, and the young man with the golden hair and the beautiful amber eyes chuckled tenderly and pulled at his hand. 

“That would be a shame, so much work all in vain, we can't allow that to happen,” he snickered, and his king joined his laughter and let himself be pulled to the antechamber where the large tub filled with warm water was waiting for him.

*~*~*

Blondel had undressed him with greatest care, and Richard hadn't been ashamed of the visible proof of his desire for the beautiful young man serving him with so much devotion, serving him not because he was his servant or slave, but only because he loved him with all his heart. They hadn't shared more kisses though, knowing where it would lead them if they did that and gave in to their desire for each other, and Richard had stepped into the tub and sat down with a grateful moan of pleasure when the still pleasantly warm water had caressed his skin and eased the ache in his tired bones.

The impressive monarch leaned back against the edge of the tub with closed eyes, enjoying the gentle ministration of his beautiful minstrel who was now starting to wash him, running the smooth sponge coated with Richard's favorite herbal soap over the hills and valleys of his strong-muscled and with years of fights and practices well-shaped body.

Richard hadn't had to suffer during his long imprisonment as Heinrich had treated him with the appropriate respect he had felt for the older ruler he'd wanted to become his strongest liegeman, but Richard had always felt lonesome and the servants and maids attending on him had remained strangers to him and never come close enough to him to make him feel less lonely.

Blondel however knew him and his needs almost better than Richard knew himself, and the king was grateful that he could let his guard down and drop his cautiousness at least for a couple of hours, simply enjoying the gentle care of the beautiful young man instead of having to keep up appearances at all cost.

“There are new scars, my King Richard.” Blondel's soft voice woke him from his dazed state of contentment, and he opened his eyes and followed the elegant pale hand traveling over his chest that was adorned with soft dark fur with his gaze. “They come with the battles, Blondel,” he said, “they don't hurt anymore, only serve as a reminder of how cruel our world actually is – and how vulnerable we humans all are.”

Blondel kneeling beside the tub grazed with his fingertips over the thin white lines of Richard's upper arm. “Not our world is cruel, my King Richard, but the humans living in it. We fight battles we claim to be fought in the name of God, and yet all we want to achieve with them is more wealth and power for ourselves. Our world is beautiful, and it would be a wonderful and peaceful place to live in if we only stopped being as selfish and greedy as we are.”

Richard smiled wistfully and melancholy, bending forward to lay his hand under the young man's chin and make him look at him. “You're right with what you say when it comes to most human beings I know, but you don't belong to them. Your soul is as beautiful and pure as the warm and golden summer sun bestowing life, and I know for sure that this will never change. Don't let us talk about wars and battles tonight, my dearest friend, not when I have waited for so long to be reunited with you.”

Blondel returned his smile with love, and Richard's breath hitched in his throat by its beauty. “You're right, my beloved Richard. This night is ours, and it is too beautiful to spend it with sad thoughts about things we cannot change,” he agreed, bringing his face closer to Richard's for the kiss his king wanted to have. It was a sweet and almost chaste kiss, but it wasn't less deep or loving than their first kisses had been, and Richard gently pulled Blondel's tunic over his head when they parted again.

“Come to me, my beautiful bard, I want to feel you,” he demanded hoarsely, and his minstrel chuckled and undressed the rest of his clothes to join him in the tub. “Your wish is my command, my King Richard,” he murmured, capturing Richard's lips again as he straddled him, “how could I resist such a tempting invitation?”

Richard growled and pulled the slim and lithe body of his beloved minstrel closer, his right hand cupping Blondel's round backside while he used his left to keep the younger man's head in place as he plundered his mouth again, forgetting everything except for beautiful being in his arms that made him feel whole and complete in a way no one else had ever done.

*~*~*

Blondel snuggled close against Richard's warm and naked body in the tub, the evidence of Richard's strong desire for him pressing against the inner side of his thighs due to his position. His own desire for the man he loved more than life itself wasn't less strong, and he moaned into the hot and passionate kiss, his hips jerking forward to their own will as he sought release from the fire of love and passion burning in his veins and thrumming in his ears.

Richard growled contentedly when he sensed Blondel's surrender, his calloused hands stroking feverishly his back and his flanks. Blondel had always loved the roughness of Richard's hands, hands that were the hands of a soldier, their roughness coming from years of holding the sword and the reins of a horse, and which was such a contrast to his own smooth and soft skin. The older man was a skilled lover and knew how to set him in fire, how to drive him crazy with need and lust, and the years they had been apart hadn't changed that as Blondel now realized.

The young man tried to return the favor and stroke Richard as well, but his king growled again and lifted him up to turn him around and seat him in his lap with Blondel's back pressed against his chest. “I want to pleasure you, Richard, please!” Blondel objected, heavy shivers of arousal wrecking him when the king's tongue slipped into his ear.

“I know, my beautiful Blondel,” the older man soothed him gently, “but this will come later. Just let me enjoy you, love, I have dreamed of this for so long. Just surrender to me and let me feel your pleasure. Let me hear your wonderful voice, your sweet moans, my darling.”

Blondel's eyes fell shut when Richard's strong hand found its way between his trembling legs, cupping his aching erection, and the young man threw his head back and moaned loudly, the first touch of his beloved king now stroking him almost too much to bear. Richard's arms held him in place, giving him the feeling of protection and shelter, and the young man stopped fighting against the hot waves of lust and pleasure coursing through his entire body and let himself be stroked, sensing how much it meant to his beloved king to do this for him.

Richard still knew so well how he wanted to be caressed and stroked, setting up a slow, almost lazy pace and using only little pressure which would arouse him without granting him the release Blondel craved for so badly right away, and all the beautiful young man could do was giving what his king himself craved for that much: his moans and sounds of pleasure, breathless gasps and mewls as he begged the older man to end the sweet torture and let him come in incoherent words.

“My Richard, please, I need to, ooohhh, please, let me... aaahh, Richard!” Blondel pushed his hips up as best as he could trapped in Richard's lap and held by his strong arms, and the king's pleased chuckle tickled his sensitive ear. 

“Not so fast, my sweet bard, I have missed your voice so much, you don't know how much I have missed you making those sweet noises for me. I want to enjoy you for a while longer, so give me what I want and I'll grant you what you want soon enough.”

The young bard groaned, clinging to his king for dare life as he struggled to get enough air into his lungs and voice his pleasure, Richard's skilled fingers stroking up and down on his throbbing member, teasing the engorged head of his manhood and letting stars explode before his closed eyelids with his skilled caresses. Blondel lost all tracks of time, his world shrinking to the tub and the man holding him, and he let his moans flow freely, the heat of a forceful orgasm building deep in his groin licking at the end of his spine with powerful flames.

“Richard, my beloved Richard, I've missed you so, I love you!” Blondel cried out when the tension finally became too much to bear, and he arched his back and cried out again, spilling his exuberant ecstasy all over the tender hand caressing him through his height. Everything inside him clenched and pulsed with pure pleasure, and Blondel sobbed and moaned, gasped and groaned with every new wave until he had nothing more to give and dropped back against Richard with one last strangled cry of relief and love.

“I love you.” His words were only a hoarse whisper, barely audible in the sweet prison of the afterglow he was trapped in, but Richard had heard him nonetheless, and his tender kiss as he pulled him close and gently rocked him through the storm of his feelings assured him that his feelings were returned with the same depths.

“I love you too, my darling, more than I have ever loved anybody else. More than you'll ever know.”

Blondel turned his head on Richard's shoulder to return the kiss, and the happy smile enlightening his handsome features was as sweet as their first reunion had been.

Blondel kissed his king with all the deep love he felt for him, and he knew for sure that he would never forget this first magical night together after the four horrible long years of waiting and yearning. This night was theirs and only theirs, and Blondel was determined to make the best out of it and show his King Richard how much he had missed him and how much he loved him.


	5. The Passion of Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blondel and his beloved king rebond anew, losing themselves in their love and passion for one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear Arrested,
> 
> here's the final chapter of the story I wrote for you so long ago. It will always be a symbol of our friendship for me! <33

They had stayed in the tub for a little while longer, and Richard had waited patiently until Blondel trusted his limbs enough to work properly again. Then, they had dried each other with tenderness and care, Blondel for once not objecting to his king returning the favor and serving him with rapt devotion as he brushed over his shimmering pale skin with the soft linen to catch the glittering drops of water.

The way back to the bedroom had taken longer than the way to the antechamber one hour ago, because Richard hadn't let Blondel out of his arms but kissed him the entire time, which had led to stumbling more than actually walking and Blondel hitting the door frame and the small table in the middle of the large room on their way to their destination. The young minstrel had hardly felt it though, his senses too occupied with the man holding and kissing him to care about such unimportant things.

The tenderness of the first hour of their reunion had changed into something deeper and much hungrier along their way; and passion had literally exploded between them when Richard had thrown him onto their large and cozy bed to crawl on top of him and press his hot mouth on each and every single inch of warm and still damp fragrant skin. Blondel wasn't less urgent and ardent in his longing to feel the older man deep inside him, finally having him again after more than four terribly long years, and he was glad that he had been so foresighted to put what they would need for their reunion under one of the two pillows: the small bottle filled with expensive oil that would smooth the way when his king finally reclaimed him as his and his alone again.

Richard didn't give him the chance to tell him about the vial as he tried to tell him, though, burying his demanding tongue deep in his mouth to kiss him senseless, his ardent purrs vibrating against his throat. Blondel pulled his head closer, his short nails scratching over Richard's scalp and tousling his hair as he returned the kiss with heated passion. His lips tingled from the onslaught and his tongue hurt, but Blondel didn't care about that, the ache of his unfulfilled desire too strong to think of anything else. It had been so long since he had last been able to kiss his beloved lion, since he had felt Richard's arms around him, since his king had filled him and possessed him; and Blondel arched his back against his royal lover's strong frame and loosened the grip of his left hand to fumble for the small vial under the pillow.

Richard let go of his mouth and traveled down on his body, his ardent lips nipping, sucking and nibbling their way along his jaw and throat before he reached his collarbone, lavishing attention on the soft skin of his chest until he finally stopped his exploration further down at Blondel's nipples.

“Moan for me, my minstrel, sing your song of passion for me!” he demanded as he started to suck at the tiny left knob, the pink flesh hardening under his ministration, craning eagerly into the caress of his wonderful lover. 

“I love you, need you, want you so much!” Blondel's breath came in fast and ragged puffs, and he moaned and gasped for his king, crying out with need when Richard rolled his right nipple between his calloused fingertips while still sucking forcefully at the left knob. His sweaty fingers finally found the small bottle they had almost frantically searched for, pulling it out from its hiding place and enclosing it in a tight grip. Shivers ran down on his spine again and again as Richard now alternated between gently biting and forcefully sucking both of his nipples, the hot waves of lust shooting right into his groin. Blondel was hard again, so hard that it was driving him crazy, and he could feel Richard's desire pressing against his thigh with the same despair he himself felt.

It was no wonder, Richard hadn't found his satisfaction earlier during their first passionate encounter in the tub, and even though the young bard didn't think that Richard had stayed abstinent during their separation, but his king had never been someone enjoying intimacy with random acquaintances, and Blondel doubted that he had found someone he could trust and like enough to lie with them in the large but foreign and hostile castle where he had been held as a prisoner for almost one year.

The blond minstrel had never asked his king whether or not he slept with others – men or women - thinking that it wasn't something he had the right to ask anyway, and Richard had never told him about that on his own. Blondel didn't know why he had to think of that now of all times, and he struggled not to let the ugly feeling called jealousy rise to the surface and ruin their first night together.

“Richard, my beloved Richard please, I need to feel you!” Blondel moaned desperately, clinging to Richard's broad shoulders because he really needed something to hold on to. When his king felt the vial pressing into his shoulder-blade, he shifted his weight and released his well-licked and now deep red right nipple with a wet sound from his ardent mouth to take the bottle from his hand.

“So eager to feel me, my beautiful Blondel?” he whispered hoarsely, and Blondel moaned and pulled him up for another ardent kiss. 

“More than eager, my beloved lion. I want you to claim and possess me, I want to be yours – I need to be yours again!” Blondel demanded, his hands stroking feverishly Richard's back and his strong-muscled thighs, dabbing kisses on his shoulders and his neck. 

His king opened the bottle with deft fingers, coating them with the precious oil to do what both of them longed for so badly. Blondel opened his legs for Richard's hand without hesitation, smiling at the man he loved so much with trust and longing. “What are you waiting for, my beloved king? I am yours and yours only, have always been only yours,” he said when Richard didn't move. “I have waited for so long to be yours again, four long years, please, take me, Richard!”

*~*~*

Richard looked down at the beautiful face of his beloved mate, and the realization that he would soon be reunited with his Blondel again, finally becoming one with him again after four years of longing and yearning suddenly made it impossible for him to move. Richard had dreamed of Blondel each and every lonely night he had spent apart from him, the memories of what they had once shared helping him with not losing his mind and his hopes in a foreign and hostile country.

Yet the younger man's hoarse confession made him hesitate, and Richard swallowed at the sudden, forceful and unexpected wave of relief surging through him – relief mixed with regret and a bad conscience.

The English monarch bent down to kiss him, stroking over Blondel's flushed cheek. “Four years are a very long time, darling, and you didn't know if we would ever see each other again.” His eyes roamed over his mate's beloved features and he kissed him again, his voice demanding complete honesty when he continued to speak. “Have you ever found comfort and consolation in another pair of warm and tender arms during these long years of waiting, my dearest friend? Has there ever been someone chasing away your nightmares during all those long, cold and dark nights while you've waited for me to come back to you?”

Blondel looked up at him with a soft smile that was making his features look even more beautiful than they already were, and he stroked Richard's face like his king had stroked his only a couple of seconds before.

“I have found comfort and consolation in Robin and Oscar's presence and their friendship, my beloved king, in their understanding for what you mean to me. Their words have consoled me when I needed reassurance as much as their silent understanding has helped me when words would only have worsened my grief and my fears. Oscar's arms have kept me warm during the cold winter nights when we had to share body-heat in order not freeze to death, and he and Robin have been there when I woke up from another nightmare, drying my tears and staying with me when I was afraid to fall asleep again. But their comfort and consolation have always been the comfort and consolation of friends only, of brothers, not the comfort of lovers. I'm yours forever, I could never give anybody else what is yours only, my King Richard.”

Richard swallowed again, the huge lump in his throat making it hard for him to speak. “You don't know what your words mean to me, love,” he eventually whispered, closing his eyes in regret. “They make me so happy even though I don't deserve them. I haven't been as faithful as you have been, my sweet darling, and I am more sorry for that than I can express in words.”

Blondel's eyes showed nothing than love, devotion and understanding when he looked up at him. “I never thought that I am your only one, Richard. You are the king and you have duties and expectations to fulfill.”

The English sovereign shook his head. “It wasn't like that. It happened only a few times during my long journey, after the most bloody battles...” His voice trailed off as the memories of the horror he had seen, smelled and heard overwhelmed him once more, and Blondel waited patiently, sensing that his king wasn't done with his confession. “We fought side by side, wondering how we had survived afterwards when we tried to forget the things we had seen. I think that my gratitude of still being alive and almost unharmed was what made me seek the warmth of another pliant body.”

Blondel cupped his face with his hands and his smile deepened. “You don't have to explain yourself, my beloved lionheart. If they consoled and comforted you when you needed it the most, helping you to stay sane and hopeful in the insanity and horror of this war, then I am happy. Your well-being is all that has ever mattered to me, and nothing will ever change that.”

Richard sighed, relaxing over his faithful minstrel as he accepted his forgiveness and understanding with awe and gratitude. “Thank you, my love. Please believe me that you have always been the only one possessing my love and my heart. You have been the one filling my thoughts and my soul every single minute of the long days and nights, and the memories of your sweet voice and your love was what has kept me sane and healthy. These memories and the hope that I would see you again one day, hold you in my arms and feel you.”

Blondel's passionate kiss after his declaration left no doubts about him granting his king his forgiveness for his human weakness, and Richard returned the kiss with the same ardor, telling Blondel without words that he was loved and desired more than any other being in this world. Richard thrust deep into the sweet cavern of Blondel's mouth with his tongue, imitating the act of lovemaking until his head was spinning with his own unfulfilled desire, and Blondel moaned loudly and pushed his hips up in an inviting and impatient way.

“What are you waiting for, my King Richard? Show me how much you've longed for me and make me yours!” he almost hissed and Richard chuckled, the heavy weight of guilt not taken away from his shoulders completely, but eased to a level where it was at least bearable; and he finally moved, snaking his slicked up fingers between Blondel's thighs to prepare him for their final reunion after the long wait.

“I will do that, my beautiful Blondel, I will make you all mine. But it has been a long time and we need to be careful, I don't want to hurt you!” he purred, circling the puckered and tight rosebud, massaging it with tender fingers to loosen it up.

Blondel's chuckle was as carefree as Richard's had been, and he kissed him again, relaxing under his king, melting against his strong frame, his legs falling apart to grant him access to the most intimate part of his body.

“Your love will never hurt me, Richard!” he murmured at his lips, and this was all Richard needed to know.

*~*~*

Blondel found himself moaning and gasping for his beloved king again soon enough, the feeling of long and clever fingers opening him up as skillfully as he remembered it arousing the young minstrel incredulously. He was thankful that they had had this short but important talk before their ultimate reunion, before they would eventually renew and strengthen their already strong bond.

The jealousy and uncertainty Blondel had felt for some seconds were gone, replaced by relief and gratitude that Richard had found some short moments of peace and joy in the cruelty of war that had been his only companion for far too long. The young minstrel had seen by the expression in his king's beautiful eyes as he had stumbled his way through his confession that Richard's love had always only belonged to him, and he couldn't begrudge him the comfort he had found in the arms of another loyal warrior now and then.

Blondel had never wanted that for himself although he would have had the opportunity to seek forgetting in the loving arms of one of Robin's companions more than once, having to turn down the offers coming from both genders often enough with a friendly but firm “no!”

But he had seen enough couples in the heat of passion after a won or lost battle the outlaws had fought to know that this came naturally and was more about reassurance of one's own life and health and about working up the rush of feelings after such experiences - rather than about real sex or even love.

If his beloved king had needed to do the same to deal with his own experiences, than Blondel was grateful that he had found someone who understood him and shared the same feelings instead of trying to take advantage of Richard's vulnerable state.

Blondel's thoughts vanished when Richard pushed three fingers into him, brushing over the small bundle of nerves deep inside him that made him see stars and his leaking erection throb with painful desire. “Richard, my wonderful lion, I am ready for you, please, take me!” he cried out, shivering and trembling with need.

The older man growled contentedly, repeating his movements until all Blondel could do was clinging to his broad shoulders and arching his back into his touch with wanton abandon. “I will do that my beautiful minstrel, I will make you all mine!” his king snarled, not trying to hide his own arousal from his ardent lover. “I'm aching for you as much as you're aching for me, my sweet Blondel!”

Richard lowered his head down to his nipples again, sucking and licking, and Blondel felt the heat of his approaching orgasm pooling in his groin. “Then do it! Take me!” he demanded desperately, struggling to not give in to his desire and just come from the sensation of a warm and wet tongue circling his nipples and the calloused fingertips stimulating the sensitive knob deep inside him.

The king still knew him well enough to sense that he was getting close quickly, but he kept preparing him until Blondel's entire body shook with the effort of holding back, pulling his fingers out just before his young lover was about to lose it.

Blondel lay there, panting and gasping, watching the impressive and powerful ruler lining himself up hastily but carefully before he made himself comfortable between his spread legs. “You're mine forever!” he almost hissed, his eyes glowing with unrestrained passion as he sheathed himself deep into Blondel's tight heat with one powerful thrust. Blondel's eyes were fixed on the beloved face hovering above him, and he wrapped his arms and legs around his king and whispered:

“I am yours, my King Richard, only yours, now and forever!”

*~*~*

It felt so good. Nothing had ever felt as good as being so close to the one Richard loved with all his heart and soul, the one who had taught him how to love again when he had thought that he could never love again when he had been so much younger.

Blondel had only been a young boy when Richard had saved him and back then all those years ago Richard's feelings had been the feelings of an elder brother. Blondel had shown him the admiration and trust Geoffrey and John had bee feeling for him when they had been children, and which Richard had missed badly when they had grown up and become rivals instead of the brotherly allies they had once been.

The happenings around the rebellion against his father Henry had led to Blondel staying with Richard's mother for several years, and Richard hardly seeing the young boy during his adolescence. When they had finally met again, the small and thin, scared boy had grown up to a beautiful young man Richard had desired right from the first look in his beautiful amber-golden eyes on. The young prince had fought hard against his feelings, but when Blondel had confessed his deep love for him, Richard hadn't been able to resist him any longer and given in to his own painful desire for the younger one.

Blondel had been so pure and innocent, his soul as beautiful as his outer shell, and he had healed Richard's wounded soul and heart with his own love and unwavering trust and faith. Blondel was the one who had never betrayed Richard so far, never objected against his wishes and orders, the one who had never tried to manipulate him and use him to achieve his own goals and desires. Blondel had never lied to him and never let him down, and Richard knew that he didn't deserve him and his faith, but he had always been too selfish and grateful for his love and loyalty to send him away and let him find the love of someone who would deserve him much more.

Richard's emotions nearly overwhelmed him as he now pushed into Blondel again, desperate to lose himself in his mate's embrace and his love. He couldn't have stopped moving even if he had wanted to, his need to feel Blondel erasing any coherent thought from his mind. They had been apart for far too long, and Richard needed to renew their strong bond and bathe himself in Blondel's unwavering love, the love that would help him to heal again like it had done so many times before.

“You're mine, Blondel, only mine!” he ground out, barely recognizing his own voice as hoarse and choked as it was with his desire and need. His faithful minstrel pulled him closer, gently pressing Richard's mouth against his vulnerable throat where his pulse was racing, inviting his king to leave his mark upon him and claim him anew. 

“Yes, I'm yours, my beloved King Richard, I have never been anybody else's. Claim me, take me!” he encouraged his royal lover to take what he needed more than he had ever needed anything, pushing his hips up and eagerly taking all of Richard's rock-hard manhood as he was impaling him again and again, driving into his golden minstrel with wanton abandon.

Richard growled, his vision blurring with his arousal, and he changed his angle to thrust as deep into him as only possible and sucked forcefully at Blondel's throat, the lion marking his prey. It still didn't seem to be enough, and Blondel cried out in protest when Richard pulled out of him, but his protest was silenced soon enough again when Richard turned him on his front, pulling him on his knees and pushing into him one more time with another powerful thrust.

Richard wrapped his arms around Blondel's lithe body, his right hand finding his lover's throbbing member to stroke it in time to his relentless pounding. Blondel threw his head back and cried out again, this time not in protest but with lust and passion. It felt so good to caress his sweet bard like that, to feel the heavy weight of his proud manhood twitching wet and needy in his fingers, to feel Blondel's walls clenching around his own cock that heavenly.

His blood was boiling in his veins with the fire of his ardor and love, thrumming in his ears, and Richard found himself growling and moaning incoherent words of love and devotion into his beloved mate's ear, words that proved to his young lover how much his king had missed him and how much he desired him. His ardent ministration pulled Blondel's second orgasm from him with surprising ease, and Richard enjoyed every shiver of ecstasy and pleasure, every spurt of hot release coating his fingers as if it was his own pleasure.

“Yes, my sweet Blondel, come for me, show me how much you want me, how much pleasure I can make you feel!”

The king stroked his minstrel through his forceful height until Blondel had nothing more to give, supporting the younger man's weight and murmuring more words of love and devotion against his damp, fragrant skin. Blondel struggled to keep himself on his knees and grant his king his own satisfaction, and Richard closed his eyes, desperately chasing his own release from the fire burning in his veins.

When Richard finally felt himself nearing his climax, he pulled out and turned Blondel on his back again, craving to kiss him and feel Blondel's arms around him. The blond bard surrendered as sweetly to him as he always did when they were together like this, holding him and offering his red lips for Richard's passionate kiss.

The monarch who everyone called the lionheart growled and claimed what was his – what had always been his – again, kissing Blondel with all the love, tenderness and passion he felt for him as he thrust into his velvet-like heat, burying himself to the hilt into the man who was everything to him.

“Take all of me, my King Richard, fill me and make me yours,” Blondel whispered ardently at his lips, “I have waited so long for this, I need you to!”

And Richard did.

His cry of ecstasy sounded like the roar of the powerful lion he actually was for most of the people, tamed by only one special beautiful young man, a bard not a warrior even, but who had never shown any fear in his presence, only trust and faith, and who loved him with all his heart.

“My Blondel!”

Richard's world shattered into a million glittering pieces when his climax overtook him, washing over him with violent force, and he pushed deep into his beloved mate with one last thrust, filling him with his seed like Blondel had asked him to do. The young man with the golden eyes and shiny hair held him close as he shuddered through the throes of passion, claiming him anew and making him his again.

It seemed to last for an eternity, and when Richard relaxed with one last shiver, Blondel's strong arms offered him the warmth and shelter he had craved for so badly, and which he had missed so much for four very long and very lonely years.

“I love you, Blondel, my darling,” he whispered hoarsely, “I might be a king having to fulfill duties and giving my body and my mind to others because of that, but my heart will never belong to anybody else but you. This king's heart is yours always and forever, and I will never love any other being as much as I love you.” 

Blondel tenderly kissed his forehead and smiled at him, his beautiful face suffused with the deep emotions he felt for his king, for his lion.

“I love you too, my King Richard, always and forever. My heart has always been yours, and no one and nothing will ever change that.”

King Richard the Lionheart pulled his beautiful minstrel Blondel close and kissed him, his heart singing with pure joy and happiness. There was still a long, arduous and dangerous journey back to his home and his subjects ahead of him, but with Blondel by his side, he would never be alone and lonely on this journey.

With Blondel by his side, he would return to his country stronger than ever before, and with Blondel by his side, there would always be love in his heart and his life, and this was all Richard had ever needed.

The love of his faithful and loyal friend and mate: Blondel, the Minstrel.


End file.
